My name is Amy and this is the story of how I unwittingly became cuckqueened by my own daughter. My boyfriend, Andy, is now fucking her and it makes me get all tingly every time I even think about it, and I absolutely love it when they let me join them or help them.
I suppose I should start at the beginning. As I said, my name is Amy and I'm 41. I have a 20 year old daughter named Danielle. I am a vice principal at the high school Dani used to attend. Dani got her looks from her dad's side of the family. I am 5'7", with a slim athletic build. I have wavy shoulder length auburn hair and brown eyes. If you saw me on the street, you'd notice me, but you wouldn't likely crane your neck to get a third look. I'm not trying to put myself down or sound falsely modest; a woman just knows. I can get a date if I want to, but guys aren't stumbling over themselves to pull out my chair or open a door for me or anything.
My daughter, on the other hand, is the American beauty. She's blonde with big blue sparkling eyes and 34C breasts. She's a couple inches shorter than I am, but she definitely has the curves that men notice. Do you know how I know that men aren't tripping themselves to get a look at me? Because I see how they act when she walks by. It's almost amusing, actually. It makes me proud that she's my daughter, as long as she doesn't get too princessy. But let's be honest, what 20 year old college girl is NOT a spoiled little princess? She also gets some of her haughty attitude from her father.
Speaking of her father, if we can call him that, Jimmy is a truly shitty dad. We'd been dating for about 6 months when I realized that there was a problem with the birth control pills I was taking... something about mixing with other medication. Anyway, long story short, I was pregnant and he wasn't pleased. I get the occasional child support check in the mail (he's not delinquent, they just come in irregularly) so I don't have that gripe that some of my friends have had. The problem is fatherhood. Every time Dani tries to reach out to him, he runs in the opposite direction. Or worse, he'll interact with her just enough where she'll start to trust him again, and then he'll take off again, either chasing some floozy or a surefire get rich quick scheme.
Like most parents (especially single parents), I had my share of bedtime issues with Dani as she was growing up. However, where most kids want a drink of water or a snack or to be read a fair tale, Dani always wanted me to tell her something true. "Mommy, tell me a secret" got to be her catch phrase. This little bedtime ritual actually developed its own set of rules over the years. Anything that either of us said had to be true, anything said had to stay between us, and we had a 5-minute nightly dialogue time limit. These discussions were normally pretty benign - I saw her teach at the grocery store, or the roses in our flower garden look like they may be blooming very soon, etc.
What Dani was about 10, however, that time limit rule was altered. You see, she'd slept at a friend's house for a birthday slumber party the night before so on this particular night, she argued that she should get 10 minutes of dialogue time since she didn't get any time the night before. I should have put my foot down, but a part of me enjoyed her debating skills and I did sometimes enjoy our bedtime talks, especially as she grew older. Once, when she was about 13, she tried to pull a similar stunt pleading that she didn't remember any bedtime talk time two nights prior. However, I reminded her that I had, in fact, tucked her in and she was able to mutter "Mommy, tell me a secr..." - she just fell asleep before any actual dialogue could take place. As a result of this, we actually developed our own method of tracking. We untied a beaded bracelet that she had and left only 7 beads on it. Each night, after we have our nightly talk and before we say good night, I slide a bead over.
When she was 16, I thought she was done with the game. I tucked her in and she simply smiled and me and said "Good night, Mommy. Love you," which, I'm sure, is more than most mothers of 16 year old daughters get at bedtime. However, on Saturday of that week, she smiled, pulled out the beaded leather strip, with all 7 beads on the unused side. I raised an eyebrow and looked at her quizzically.
"Mommy, tell me a secret. Tell me why you've been hanging around Rachel's sister so much."
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I gulped. How did she know? Okay, a bit of backstory. Rachel is classmates with Dani. Rachel's older sister, Cindy, is 24. Cindy is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She has gorgeous red hair, perfect lips made to kiss, breasts that only a 24 year old former cheerleader could possibly possess, and a pussy made to be worshiped. I call Dani a princess, but Cindy is my Queen (I must always capitalize the Q). I am submissive to her. I serve her. I had been serving her for about 3 months at the time Dani asked her question. I'm never allowed to say that we were dating - it was either that I was serving her or that she was fucking me.
My relationship with Cindy all started one day when I was late getting Dani to school. I dropped her off and had to sign in so that she didn't get a tardy in her records. Cindy had dropped Rachel off just as we were getting in. As Dani and Rachel took off to class together, Cindy and I started to talk. I asked her how college had gone, if there was a man in her life, if she thought her job at the bank was going to turn into the upper management position that her degree qualified her for, etc. In fact, I realized after that I had done most of the talking. She answered my questions politely enough, but sort of smirked at me when I began to babble. Why did that look of hers make me squirm?
She took my hand in hers and said "Amy, let's continue our talk over a cup of chai. Let's go to Starbucks and you can order us both one." I eagerly nodded and agreed. I actually beat her there and had two grande hot chais waiting for her when she walked in. She smiled as she walked in, took her drink, and declared - "I've changed my mind. My mom is away on a work trip and I have the day to myself. Follow me back to the house and we can have our chai date there." Date? Did she just call this a date? Why was I blushing?
I don't really remember if any actual words came out of my mouth, but the next thing I knew, I was at my friend's house having chai at her dining room table with her 24 year old daughter. Cindy and Rachel's mom is Susan, a friend dating back to grade school. Here I was, having a hot drink at a table I've sat at hundreds of times before, but feeling quite exposed, quite unsure... almost naked in front of this gorgeous goddess of a young woman, Susan's own daughter. What kind of woman am I? What kind of friend am I? And is this all in my head? Surely she's not attracted to me. This woman could get any man or woman she wanted.
Cindy moved her chair very close to mine. She removed the cap from her cup of chai, gathered some foam onto her finger, looked at me, and then offered her finger to my lips. As if in a trance, I opened my mouth and sucked the foam from her beautiful finger. The spark was instant. I wanted her. Badly. And I would do whatever she asked of me.
Next, she took a sip of her drink, but then gathered some of the foam on her outstretched tongue. She looked at me, expectantly. It had been years and years since I kissed another woman (her mom was one woman I had kissed, but that's a story for another time), but at that moment, her tongue beckoned to me. I stood up, standing with my legs outside of hers, to get a better angle and wrapped my lips around her tongue, sucking the foam from it. Her hand moved to the back of my head and she held me there, giving me a kiss that soaked my panties. Her tongue probed my mouth and I sucked on it, then caressed it and tried to reciprocate as well as I could. Her kiss was so possessive though, like she was taking my mouth, my tongue, my throat (man she had a beautiful long tongue!) that it was all I could do to stay standing. She pulled me down to her so I was straddling her and she was still holding my head in place with one hand. Her other hand moved to the back of my skirt and lifted it up. She slid her fingers down the back of my panties to cup my bare ass and gave it a nice squeeze.
She broke the kiss by tugging my hair backward. I moaned in frustration both from the breaking of the kiss and because I really enjoyed how she was holding my ass.
"Remove your skirt and panties, Amy." "What? Ummm... okay." I sort of babbled, but in reality, I think I was bottomless in record time. I was so eager for her to touch me again, I'd have done just about anything at that moment.
"Good girl." I blushed and my clit twitched at the words. "Now, Amy, I want to fuck you, and I think you want me to fuck you. Isn't that right?"
"Yes, Cindy. Please."
"Please what, Amy?"
"Please fuck me, Cindy. Please?"
